hand. Rachel’s gaze was drawn to the center of the room, where a woman in a pink dress had thrown back her head in laughter. The woman turned. Her eyes met Rachel’s through the window and the shimmering heat of the street outside, and Rachel knew. It was so impossible, and yet the force of knowing stopped her in her tracks, almost bowled her over. “Cherry Jane.” At first barely a whisper. Then louder. “Cherry Jane!”
Imagine looking for one daughter and seeing another daughter who was thought to be lost, not only living but in high society circles.
